


The Amell Effect

by GoldenGail3



Series: The Ladies Of DA [3]
Category: Dragon Age II, Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Amell is not Anders friendly, Dead Hawke due to not being a Mage Hawke, Do be wared, F/M, Jerk Hawke, M/M, Non Mage Hawke is main hawke, Red Hawke, Snark, This mocks Hawkes inability to have any luck
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-12-31
Updated: 2016-12-31
Packaged: 2018-09-13 09:23:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,996
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9117568
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GoldenGail3/pseuds/GoldenGail3
Summary: The aftermath of Amell's chronicles, this however, chronicles a different and a whole lot less innocent Amell that goes to Kirkwall after hearing about her cousins, Condrad and Aaron Hawke.





	1. The Boat

Amell would be sitting aboard her very own ship, which she called the 'Blighters Fall'. Which was funny, as the ship never went into battle. It was a more of a cargo ship, and it wasn't even big compares to some of the cargo vessels she's seen. She'd be sitting on a rocking-like chair with a blue fuzzy blanket covering her legs, as she rocked back and forth, on abroad the poop deck as to see what's going on at all times. So far, she'd seen nothing but the blue-coloured horizon and the almost impenetrabley dark ocean, that loamed on what seemed forever beneath those vast, white foamy waves. She'd be drinking hot chocolate, a notable drink Amell usually had on stressful occasions or when she needed to be feel warm, like she was feeling now. She felt as cold as inicles, just sitting on the poop deck swaddled in a warm blanket, but just feeling the touch of the brillantly fresh, but freezing and salt, smelling air did wonders for her. 

However, Alistair noticed.. How Amell would rather be cold.. It was kind of symbolic in some ways. He remembered her during the blight, what a sweet, nervous thing she was. She was something entirely new now, but nevertheless, moments like these made him think of her.

He'd make his way toward her, in her glorious griffin-styled rocking chair. She was staring at the horizon in a dreamy like fashion.. he'd mentally think, " _At least she still has time to dream. That's why she got away from Kinloch isn't it? Becuase she dreamt of it, that's what I'd like to think."_

However, Amell had noticed him because he had a bit of a slippery, sliding entrance, leading him to her. 

"Hi, Alistair." She'd say, grinning.

"Oh, my dear lady. I was wondering why you were alone." He'd say, sounding so sweet, or at least to her standards. Alistair was a cutie pie. A complete and utter one. She understood why she fell for him during the Blight - she was the nervous, fidgety one who didnt know where she was going, but understood she was going to do something to help people. Alistair was like her brink, one that prevented her just falling, even though she had other layers now to work across.

"Cause, Alistair, either I talk to Bethany or discuss things with the rest of my crew. But they already know what to do when we get there in two days, so I'm enjoying my days of relaxation beforehand. You can join me if you so wish, Alistair." She'd say, sounding honest. 

"I'd love to. Afterall, it's just a couple of days before we see the bay, and the Hawke's." He'd respond, by lifting up Amell in a princess-equest way, and than settling her down on his lap when he sat down on the chair. 

"Oh, Alistair, aren't you my Prince Charmin'?" She'd say, in a mocking-like tone. 

'Of course, I am, my dear. Anything for you." He'd say, leaning in to peck her. 

"Alistair, the sun is setting!"

The two would than sit to watch as the sun went down, the dark churning of the waves would make the sun look even more colourful, with it's hues of red and yellow, and pink, arradaning in many directions like a waterfall, it dipped closer and closer away, most likely going to another place on the earth, but nevertheless, the sun did drop from their view like the moon would do every night. Amell would hug against Alistair before they both stood up from the chair. Amell would sniffle the coldness of the breaze, her semi-long black coloured hair splashed her face, as the softness of the wind kicked in. She'd stand there, hugging Alistair, look at the dark horizon showing many the faces of a many bright little specs in the sky tonight, she and Alistair, after a few minutes of silence, would than head back under the warmth of the passenger deck, where Bethany was sitting.

 "I wonder how the others shall sleep under the belly of the dragon..." Alistair would say, in a whisper tone.

As they were heading there, hand in hand, they'd hear the snores of Orghen, who probably was just getting over how much things he'd have to drink - Amell was totally going to smack him in the morning, for drinking himself to sleep

"Not well. Can't you hear Orghen snoring? Bloody idiot. I'm going to kill him in the morning..." She'd mutter in a deep panned voice.

He chuckled, softly. "I can believe that to be true."

"I wonder what the others are up too..." She thought outloud... 

So far, shr didn't hear Valenna, and that was a achiement of Velenna's, to always be heard - Velanna was rather screechy when it came down it, but she didn't know where Velanna choice to went to bed, or if she wasn't secretly planning revenge against Orghen, which seemed more likely than not  Valenna annoyed Amell with that habit of disappearing in the middle night just simply to escape the others while they slept, or when Orghen had nights like tonight, where he snores louder than a    Darkspawn Broodmother, but than again, she couldn't blame her for not wanting to hear the death snore of the drunk. Nathinal was definitely awake - trying to ignore Orghren snoring probably. Poor Nathinal she thought, she guessed he wished could simply disappear like Valenna the banshee. The only person she couldn't guess what they were doing at the current moment, and much to her irrational paranoia, was surpisling Bethany. She could guess that she was sleeping, or at making an attempt at it to be so. 

"I can tell your in deep thought about this, Beth." He'd say. 

"I'm always in deep thought, haven't you noticed?" 

"Of course I've noticed, Beth." 

"Aha. Good to know I've got your attention."

"Oh when we get into our bedroom, I'll show you attention."

She and Alistair, luckily, had their own sweet in the boat. A shared room per say. The captain of the vessel gave them a private room for their stay on his ship. Captain Louis Gregerson was a admiral to the likes of her Sliver Army in Amanathine, and in the much the same respect he and ship were her own personal crew, as she knew the like of everyone aboard the ship, and was friends with the adrmial, whom she saved from the Darkspawn invasion on Amarathine, amongst all things, she knew she was the right hands when it came to sea-faring activies, such as going to Kirkwall. 

They'd enter the top half of the ship, where they climbed up a simple wooden ladder, leading up to a small door, that stood in the middle of a deck-like opening. As they climbed up it, Alistair made a many comments. 

"Oh, so I get top now? Since you allowed me to be first..."

"Haha, maybe. Or we could play Mage and Templar. Anders taught me the ways of that game..."

"Wow, really?"

"Yes, Anders was slightly peverted in the circle. I never joined his games, you know."

"Ahaha. I don't believe that."

"You never met me when I was in the Circle." 

They'd stop chatting as they helped another up. They stood in front of the door leading to their room - before Alistair opened it, letting Elisabeth in first - their room was fairly small, but nevertheless it worked for them. It had one small farmer-type bed with hay stuffed into it the mastress, making it seem fairly quaint. It was covered with a rough, cotton-feeling brown blanket. They also had a small, but stuffed full of materal, dusty and wooden bookcase. As Amell went in, he went on after her. The door clanked shut behind them both.....


	2. The Amell Oh Clock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Amell gets ready...
> 
> And Hawke is a dick.

Amell would be looking at the now, visible bay. She'd be wearing a brightly coloured dark blue covered cloak. Her face would be covered by the long hoodie. Even though she wore eye contacts, it was enough to keep her hidden until she decided to pursue going undercover into the Kirkwall Circle. She wanted to know what was going on in the circle, and she'd find out. Very, very stealthy. She'd have to be extremely careful around Cullen, or else he sell her out. She didn't want to know what happened to him, or his condition, and the likes. The Knight Captain would probably know her as soon as she entered the bay if she went as her usual black-haired bouncy self. He probably wouldn't want to talk to her... probably. She didn't know his fate, but she hoped he was well and ect. 

She'd put on a tradional, well-worn Winterbreath (a staff) but the one thing she refused to put on was one of those ridiculous hats. They were the dumbest thing ever to be created by the circle of Magi, as well as one of the most hideous, as it trapped her hair in a uncomfortable bunch of uncontrollable tightness that seemly could last forever. But alas, she looked at the purple-capped thing, and sighed something illegible, by most standards, she knew she'd have to equip it onto her black-coloured hair or else someone might know who it is under the typical circle Mage pheusdo she was currently doning in. 

She'd stare at Alistair, who looked sort of sad. She knew he'd be devasted if anything happened to her, so she'd lean up against him, and whispered softly, as someone, like Orighen (who bothered his way into this mission) would surely hear what was being said. 'Hey, hey Alistair. You know, I'll be fine!" She'd say, sweetly, with a genuine, but closed mouthed smile on her face - he knew why, she had to get going alongside Bethany, but he wanted to at least... 

"Eli..." He'd mutter, "don't get tranquilized.. Promise me that, will you?" His response sounded a bit cynical, and not in a good way. He knew why she was doing this Cricrl thing. The eldest Hawkes boyfriend. She wanted to know his plans, so starting out at the gallows was the best way to get so, and plus it was a good idea so that they'd know how bad the Kirkwalls Circle was, and it would be fun to see if the Templars here were as dumb as they hear they were by Aaron Hawke, who took causal walks through the Gallows to see if any of the Templars would spot him as the Apostate he truly was, even though he wore a staff on the back of his dressy-Mage attire. He was like a sign for all the Templars to see with how obvious of a Mage he was. She liked the sounds of that if she'd say so herself.

She'd train her vibrant oceanic-blue coloured speticles at Alistair, her eyes looked concerned at him. He was her partner in life (not married though) So of course he'd be concerned about her safety while she was in the supposedly death sentence of a circle. She'd hug him, and he'd hug her back, before he'd kiss her. 

It was a tender kiss, and it was one of burst of emotions he couldn't fully explain to her in the short time they had left or in speech. But It told her that he'd miss her so dearly, while she was masquerading around as a Kirkwallan Circle Mage, and how, utterly concerned he was for her safety he was. But it was so quick, but so very passionate, enough so that once they were done she was panting heavily from it. He'd hug her, one last time, in a embrace sort of way as he put his cheek on her head, feeling the way her warm, soft almost stagnantly straight hair felt against his cheek, which felt so fudmnetally good, he'd miss her warm touch while she was away, but at he knew her better than anyone else though.

"Oh Alistair, I'll  miss you, but you stil have that necklace I gave you, right?" Elizabeth would say, slowly releasing herself from his warm embrace - he smelled strongly of smoke, which smelled nice to her but nevertheless, if she didn't let go, she'd never get ready for Aaron - he was looking forward to her, even if he was probably saying goodbye to Isabella right now. Her cousin loved the bloody pirate Queen like nobodies business. Like her and Alistair, she'd suppose.

"I..." he'd say, pulling back completely at last. He'd go back to the Passenger deck, without even glancing at her. Which removed the feeling of hot romance to a more professional-equest mood, or at least he tried to anyhow, he failed for the most part, as Amell felt in a sort of giddy good mood due to his overwhelming sense of cuteness he had going on. She'd sigh, and waited her next long-feeling thirty minutes, as they'd dock. Her usually grey eyes would stare at the amount of vessels that seemed to be entering the harbour, as overcrowded as it was, with a bleak entrance that seemed nearly empty despite all the large cargo holding ships that were crowding the harbour like a great exodus of sorts. She'd sat at the head of the ship, waiting for something to happen so that they may enter the black habor with all of its malice-like slave markings displayed quite maciously around the city.

She'd guess it would take hours or even days for them to land, despite the fact it wasn't surrounded by a constants stream of Ferelden refugees. She'd guess the Qunari would be the ones that were making this diffuclt - damn, why did she leave Sten in charge of em if he wasn't doing anything for a non-Qunari city? She'd tisk, thinking that the Qunari were so inconsiderate... They'd probably throw a tantrum about how things were here, considering the lack of trust between Qunari and anyone that weren't converted to their religion, but she heard that elves were more prone to being converted into the Qunari than any other race. She didn't exactly trust that source of information though, as it was given to her by Sten (who had a many reasons to lie to her about his culture, considering gun powder is a well guarded secret.) 

But alas, another minute or so, and the ship was docked aboard the busy harbour of Kirkwall, even if it was nearby a threatening looking Qunari Dreadlock that loomed in front of their ship like it was a insignificant plaything in comparison to the size of the Dreadlock . Amell would look around, from her sitting positions as the crew came to lower the platform of the ship as to allow Amell to remove herself from the ship. She'd pass grins towards the crewmen at work aboard the ship. Most were happy to give her a little heads up, a sign of respect she'd assume, amongst sailers, but alas she didn't know much about sailing cultures and ect. She'd wait for Captain Henderson, a large, lumbering man with short-milarty cut golden-blonde hair, and intensely and alway watching dark-greys colored irises that could make people wish that they never picked a fight with him. He was a young man, for a sea captain, at only twenty-four years, he'd done things in his liegre as captain that most older-sea captains would never do in their lifetimes. 

He'd eventually come out of the crew deck, having to have dealt with a frustrating conversion with Orghen about not picking in his men simply because he was a drunk all the time. She could tell he just dealt with the dwarf as he was purposefully belating one of the female dwarves aboard the vessel, the stench of him reached her noise - he smelled like her homemade Beer mixed with the flithy taste of unfiltered, unwashed that could almost hide the stench of the other unwashed bodies that were around her. She'd sigh.

"Captain, what did Orighen do this time?" She'd inquire. 

"Nothin' that he usually doesn't do I suppose, but that doesn't matter Commander. I've just come to say, whom are yah brinin' with yah aboard shore so that I can get er home and all... " He'd say, polity. 

"All of my party members, sir. All have their purposes." She'd respond, with a quick flash of a grin.

"Ah. Should I call yah Lady Trevelyan now? Lady Amelia Trevelyan? Right Commander?" 

"That's correct, Lady Amelia Trevelyan- Daughter of First Enchantor Mary and Former Knight Commander Xavier Trevelyan, and Senior Enchantor of the Ostwick Circe of Magi. Ready for whatever comes at me!" 

"Yah sound like your reciting for a play, Ms." 

"A play yes, and I'm one of the players. I just need..." She'd stop talking as they were walking across the podema of the bay. She'd stare at him, as they neared the entrance to get inside the courtyard outside of the city. To be honest, she thought Kirkwall a boring and bland place, that seemed very empty inside, despite all of those Ferelden refugees that came here via the blight, it was a very dark and eary place where she'd expect murder and corruption to happen just around the nearest empty street, sidewalks, alleyway and anywhere where the authorties couldn't see the sounds of screams and toture happening in the large and otherwise gangster filled streets of people being pickpockets for fun and what not, but she'd have heard that Aveline was trying to fix that problem.... She'd wonder why the Hawkes choice to come here amongst all places... 

But like any good day dream, her thought process didn't last long, as she heard the sounds of boots coming towards her, indeed quite quickly by the sounds of them. She'd open her eyes, and before long, a elven Mage, by the looks of him, were coming down the stairs to her - he looked Dalish, by the looks of his face with its carving-looking tattoos of some god/goddes she didn't know. 

She knew whom sent him here. She growled. Bloody Anders... No, Justice... sent him.... here to collect her... Ugh. 

"No, sir, I'm not coming with you." She say, attempting to keep the growl out of her vocal-cords. 

"Why not?" He'd question her, with a curious glance. 

"Because I wish to go the Circle! Not go to your abomantion you call a leader!" She'd respond.

"You think I work for Anders?" He'd say, with a arrogant grin. "Nope. For someone else! I use to work for em though. Didn't work out. " 

"Okay.. I don't trust you. I don't even know your name or why your talking to me amongst all other things, in fact, I have so many questions about you, I like to think it'd take all day long." She'd say, without a ounce of emontion reflecting off her vocal cords. He'd sigh, rubbing his neck nervously. This person seemed the nervous sort. "Now if your done wasting my time, I'll be one my way." 

"My name is Red. " he'd say, "and I work in the shadows... feel free to call me if you need anything.." The man would say, to Amell despite her head turning away from him, and the sounds of footprints leading away from his current position on the peer was evident enough. She'd be thinking, 'tough luck, bud. I don't need your assistance.' as she went away from the red-haired elven mage, with his blazing-red cape-hoodie that was covered in long strides of corrected holes in the fabric of it. To her, he'd look to be the most obivous 'I'm a mage' sign in all of Kirkwall, considering he was wearing a Kirkwall Import Staff as well as having a cape. All he'd need is a red-printed hat and than he'd look exactly like one of those terrible cliches about mages she'd have heard about in rumours. 

But she needed to keep going. It wasn't going to be an easy task she was about to do.

She'd simply stare at the emptyness of the courtyard of Kirkwall, there was garbage everywhere she looked though, and she saw no signs of those pickpocketing hobos that usually looked through the pounds of trash for a used meal to eat. Actually, it was completely empty, which made Amell tilt her head, which hurt the back of her neck because she was wearing a black-glossmar Mage-style  hoodie-cape. She'd sigh, rubbing her neck. She'd wonder if that's how the mysterious Red felt like when he was trying to communicate with her. To be honest, she was tired of seeing all of this what-would seem to be food leftover from a event of a sort. But why would they have it outside of the city? She'd wonder, but not enough. 

As she walked across the large-almost threatening courtyard (while keeping on eye out for garbage so that she wouldn't get any stuck under her big, black Ferelden-styled boots). She'd casually think about her task.

Hawke had this plan of influrating the circle by means of using Aaron as bait for the Templars, like a bloody hypocritical bastard he was, his planned worked, and now Aaron was in the circle, all while Isabella yelled at Hawke like a mad man, which is what he deserved. Aaron surpisling, seemed fine with it for the most part, as he was one of the peaceful mages. Anders had offered to get Aaron out, but he refused for sometime, until Anders took in to his own hands to get Hawke's older brother out.. It failed. Apperately, according to Hawke, Aaron was just doing this out of spite for both him and Anders. Although, to her knowledge, Anders didn't protest to Aaron being taken away (it was another bloody Fenris situation one of which didn't sit well with her..) and only tried getting him back once. Anders had told Hawke, time and again to not allow Aaron to be taken away, thinking it would be a life sentence without freedom, and they had actually broke up over it, but Hawke went to Fenris's house... 

She'd wonder what Justice thought of the fact that Hawke actually managed to do. She'd take a mild-guess but betrayed? But she knew it wasn't Hawke's fault... not really. Even though he planned it. Like a dick. To be the best of her knowledge, Hawke was a much-too curious Pro Mage that just wanted to hear how bad the circle was. She didn't realise he'd use family to get what he wanted though, even if he got Bethany out of it (for some reason.) 

All while she thought, she got through the digusting mess of trash eveywhere around her. She'd grin, with utter confidence out of getting the fifth mess which smelled abostely disgusting. There was no words to describe how nasty it truly smelled. She'd be use to it (killing that brood mother had her go though something far, far worse. It'd take a strong stomach to handle how truly gross that flesh cave was...) 

She already had access - as Amelia Trevelyan, senior enchantor of the Ostwick Circle of Magi. She was a visitor here, and as she was a special case, no Templars were brought this time, as she told them "I'll need rest, than you can escort me to the circle. In the morning?" Her voice rang of a reblence of semi-nobility, a impression she thought she'd fail terrbily at just because she practiced only a couple of times, and most where of mocking tone to the noblity, although she'd know she herself was of actual Marcher nobility blood though, even if she wasn't a noble becuase she was a Mage and mages weren't allowed to have noble titles. 

She'd slip into the shadows of High Town, her black-capping allowing herself to do so, as she figured it out. Amelia Trevelyan was suppose to be staying at a high-end nobles house tonight, but she'd allow herself to be a bit late at least tonight.

Her task of helping Aaron Hawke was just beginning.

 


End file.
